Legacy

The Quest

Netherbane Tavern

The Nether Princess sits at a table, hooded and hidden. Across from her sit a small gang of what appear to be Enderkin and remnants of the royal authority of the Ender domain, who have something that she very much desires. The center man sits with the light above him turned off, with all but his deep black arms, coated with purple cracks, visible to Princess Crysteffor.

"Why won't you accept the gold? I have far more than you can ever imagine, and I will gladly give it to you if you just give me the timepiece", the Princess would beg, though in a hushed and quiet voice as to not attract attention. "I do not vant your useless Nether gold. And besides, tzis timepiece is of great value, much more tzan what you promise me in gold", the hidden man would say. The Princess would growl, annoyed.

"Vatch your temperament, Princess Crysteffor. In case you haven't noticed, tzese people do not take kindly to those like you. So you best remain cordial." She would remain silent this time, a visible look of annoyance on her face. "Look. I don't want trouble. I just want the outdated timepiece, something I bet you hardly use. It has little to no value, and what I am promising you is much, much better than anyone else will give you for it", she would say, beginning to sound desperate.

"If you are begging me for an opportunity to pay for it a great deal, I believe it has at least some value, vhether I am avare of it or not", the man would say. She could see him lean back and throw his hands behind his head, cool and relaxed. The Princess, desperate and angered after countless hours of pointless begging and negotiation, would raise the Ruby Thorn in a quick movement, pointing it at the man's beshadowed neck.

His thugs, as she had come to think of them, stood up and pointed their weapons at her, mostly flintlock pistols and Ender weapons from the royal period. But the man in the shadows would not move, chucking lightly and shaking his head, apparently amused. She would lower her sword, realizing she was failing to make the statement she had wanted to make.

"Congratulations", he would say. "You just alerted every patron in tzis tavern tzat you carry a veapon created in tze single most hated dimension in tzis room. Quite the mess you have gotten yourself into." Several patrons would stand up, drawing swords and guns, as well as breaking glasses and bottles on counters and tables.

"I think you're lost, friend", would say a female assassin in red clothes, standing up from behind Abigail. She would slide out her katana, a mean looking sword that did not look like an ideal fight. "Your kind isn't welcome here. Now scram."

But the Nether Princess would hold her ground, instead walking closer. Many people would begin to make sounds and whisper things, someone even yelling 'Hit her already!'. The assassin in red would begin to circle  the Princess. "So you're Nether royalty, huh? I bet they would love to see your face hanging at the front of our tavern to serve as a neat little warning sign."

As Abigail was about to respond, the bartender would slam his hand on the table, shouting "Enough! Both of you, cut it out. But what she says is true. You nor your people are not welcome here." She would nod, understanding. Princess Crysteffor would turn to leave, and begin walking out.

"Wow. If you're leading how you respond to a fight, no wonder we hardly hear of the Nether Kingdom anymore". A wave of enthusiasm and excitement would spread upon the tavern, and a chant would erupt, saying "Fight, fight fight!". The bartender would only bang his head against the bar, walking out to stop them before they did something stupid.